


The Mating Habits of American Wizards

by Lavavulture



Series: The Mating Habits of American Wizards [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Extremely Dubious Consent, Forced Bonding, M/M, Referenced Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 02:56:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8732134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavavulture/pseuds/Lavavulture
Summary: Grindelwald's temperamental "houseguest" goes into a rut just when his helpful spy enters a heat.  Gellert Grindelwald believes in using all of his resources to their fullest extent.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [美国巫师的交配期](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8812504) by [blakjc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakjc/pseuds/blakjc)
  * Translation into Español available: [The Mating Habits of American Wizards (Traducción)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9210032) by [SlashShips](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlashShips/pseuds/SlashShips)



Gellert Grindelwald was growing tired of pretending to be Percival Graves. As Grindelwald opened the door to Graves’s apartment and took off his hat and coat, he caught sight of his new face in the mirror and glowered at it until it made him chuckle.

At least Graves was a handsome man. If the head of magical security had been some plain, boring creature, he would be having a much harder time navigating New York. As it was he’d found that he could get away with more ignorance than he was comfortable with just by being handsome and charming at people until they quit talking. That at least was comforting in its familiarity.

Grindelwald heard a thud in the next room and sighed, perhaps a bit dramatically. As tiresome as it was pretending to be such a severe, law-abiding man, the thing he was growing most tired of was the man himself.

Grindelwald went to the guest bedroom of the apartment and opened the locks on the door with a swift motion of Graves’s wand. Once inside he frowned at the mess he found.

“Honestly, Mr. Graves, this is childish of you,” Grindelwald said, releasing the spell on his voice. He luxuriated for a moment in hearing his natural, smooth accent. “I gave you plenty to keep you occupied while I was at work.”

“Fuck you,” Graves said, swallowing deeply a few times to test that he had his voice back. He was pacing the room with more agitation than Grindelwald had come to expect from him in their time together. He ran his hand through his hair and Grindelwald frowned at his appearance. To most people Graves would have looked scrupulously tidy but Grindelwald had come to know him well enough to see that he was practically disheveled, with his shirtsleeves pushed up above his elbows and his hair slightly mussed out of its normal perfect place. 

Grindelwald came fully into the room and a faint musky scent made him pause. He breathed in deeper and then grinned, sharp and knowing.

“Oh dear. You haven’t gone into a rut, have you, my friend?” Grindelwald laughed at the furious expression Graves threw his way. Grindelwald supposed he’d been cruel not to provide Graves with a way to curb his natural cycle but as it wasn’t a problem he’d ever had to deal with, the thought had never crossed his mind.

“Let me use my magic and I’ll make a suppressant potion,” Graves demanded sharply, pausing in his constant back-and-forth.

Grindelwald made a scolding sound in his throat and shook his head. “Now, Mr. Graves, you know I can’t trust you with your magic. I can barely trust you outside of the closet. You don’t want to do something foolish and end up back in there.”

“You don’t understand what this is like. You’re neutral.” Graves shuddered once, hard, and sat down in his armchair. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and pressed his fists together before pushing his face against them.

“Neutral, yes, that’s what you Americans call it. And you’re…dominant?” Grindelwald laughed again. Americans were so quaint in their need to affix special labels on things that already had perfectly good names. 

But Graves was right in his own way. Grindelwald was a beta and he’d never known the furious burn of an alpha’s rut or the desperate ache of an omega’s heat. He’d been present for a few of Albus’s heats and lovely and memorable as they’d been, he’d never longed to be with him as an alpha. Too messy. Too uncontrolled. Even when they were friends and lovers he’d known that he needed to keep his head about him with brilliant Albus Dumbledore. 

“You can’t leave me like this for days. It’s going to get worse.” Graves looked up at him under his heavy, handsome brow and Grindelwald felt a pleasant rush run through him. “Even you’re going to look good in a few days.”

“Narcissist,” Grindelwald teased with a sharp smirk that he thought had probably never graced Graves’s features before.

“Damn it,” Graves muttered as another shudder ran through him.

“Well, I just came to drop you off some supper.” Grindelwald dropped a bag on the floor. “I have to meet my helper and see if he’s found the child yet.”

“The Barebone boy? He’s never going to find anything.” Graves shoved his hands back through his hair. “There are no Obscurials in America.”

“I have faith in him. He’s very devoted.” Grindelwald watched Graves for a little bit longer, enjoying his frustration. It was some payback for all the frustration he’d caused him over the past few weeks. 

“Why haven’t you killed me already? Do you enjoy this?” Graves asked. His voice was low and dangerous and much more pleasant to hear when it wasn’t coming from Grindelwald’s mouth.

“I don’t like to waste resources, Mr. Graves. And I have nothing but respect for your talent.” Grindelwald headed back towards the door when an amusing thought crossed his mind. “Maybe while I’m out, I’ll find you some lithe omega whore to rut with. That would be kind, wouldn’t it?”

He laughed at the look on the Auror’s face and slammed the door behind him, sealing it back up with one smooth motion even as he took his voice.

 

“I can’t stay, Mr. Graves,” Credence said, his eyes glued somewhere around Grindelwald’s knees. 

Grindelwald suppressed a sigh and reached out for the sad-faced Squib, pulling him into another of the comforting hugs he loved so dearly. Strangely Credence stiffened in his arms this time and nearly pulled away when Grindelwald set his mouth close to his ear.

“Come now, your mother can’t expect you back this early. It’s still daylight out. Talk with me a bit,” Grindelwald murmured in a voice he knew from experience was like running silk down your neck.

Credence sucked in a sharp breath, his high cheekbones flushing brighter through his pale skin than was normal. He looked away and closed his eyes, shivering in Grindelwald’s loose grip. His voice was shaky and uncertain, “I can’t, sir, I’m…not well. Ma will be angry if I stay out too long today. And I-I can’t help you for the next few days.”

“Why not?” Grindelwald asked in a cajoling voice but then a faint, sweet smell answered that question for him. He pushed Credence out far enough that he could really look at his face, holding him by his shoulders in a tighter grip than he intended. Credence’s breath caught in his throat until Grindelwald realized what he was doing and loosened his fingers. “You’re an omega, aren’t you, my boy?”

“I-I don’t know what…” Credence looked briefly at him with confused, tormented eyes and Grindelwald realized his mistake.

“Of course, the No-Maj call it something different,” Grindelwald lied fluidly. He raised his hand up to cup Credence’s cheek. “You’re submissive. Of course you are. That’s wonderful.”

A beautiful idea began to take form in Grindelwald’s head. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Graves that he didn’t like to waste resources. 

Slowly Grindelwald pulled Credence back into his arms, running his hands down his back, teasing and light. Credence shivered and Grindelwald wondered how far he was in his heat. It was probably just beginning or else his mother would never have let him go out in the first place. The muggles had no way to suppress their cycles. 

“Come with me, Credence,” Grindelwald said in a gentle way as he began to stroke his back more firmly, dipping lower and lower with every pass. “Just for a little bit.”

“I shouldn’t, Mr. Graves,” Credence murmured but he was leaning into Grindelwald’s embrace and even his weaker beta senses were picking up his growing arousal. For the briefest second he entertained another idea, of spreading Credence’s thin thighs here on the street and seeing if he made the same pretty sounds Albus used to make.

But Grindelwald wasn’t a cruel man. He always thought of others.

 

Percival Graves felt like he would explode if he so much as moved another inch. He snarled quietly into his clenched fists and glared at the mess around the room. He hadn’t felt like this since the first time he’d gone into rut, furious and painfully aroused, with his young magic going haywire in his fevered desire to mate.

It wasn’t how civilized people lived. The No-Maj had to suffer through it—poor bastards—but wizardkind had taken control of their baser instincts centuries ago. 

Why hadn’t he made extra of the suppressant potion the last time? Or bought more or done something to help prevent this?

The answer to that, of course, was that he hadn’t expected to be kidnapped and held hostage for weeks by the most notorious wizard in the world while said wizard impersonated him at his job and tried to find a mythical magic child with the help of a crazy zealot’s kid. Graves was a man who liked to think of himself as prepared but there wasn’t really a rulebook that would have predicted that scenario.

Suddenly the door to his room opened and Grindelwald strolled through, looking so pleased with himself that Graves wanted to punch him. Even if it was his own grinning face.

“I’ve brought you something,” Grindelwald said cheerfully in his own voice.

Graves rubbed his throat to make sure that he could talk. “Unless it’s a suppressant, I don’t want it.”

“You’ll want this,” Grindelwald said. His tone was low and suggestive. “Go into your bedroom. I’ll just step out for a bit and leave you some privacy.”

Graves bit the inside of his cheek hard as he considered what Grindelwald was suggesting. The red haze of his rut was making it hard to think but he wasn’t stupid. “Did you really bring me a submissive prostitute?”

“Hmmm, of sorts. Believe me when I say that he’s very eager for you in particular.” Grindelwald laughed, that short laugh he had that made Graves want to shove his wand down his throat.

Graves wanted to throw him out of the room, wanted to strangle him with his own silken tie but his rut had other ideas. He was on his feet before he could think and leaving his prison of the last few weeks to go across the hall to his old bedroom. Grindelwald followed him out of his room and went up to the front door, already putting on his coat and hat. He nodded to Graves as he looked back at him and slid his finger up his throat before he went through the door, resealing it as he went. Graves felt the heavy block slide back down his throat, signaling that his voice was gone once again.

Graves knew that he should use this rare opportunity to search around his home for something to use as a weapon, for something that would let him use his magic again so that when Grindelwald came back he would be ready for him.

Instead Graves reached out for the door handle of his bedroom and opened it.

 

Credence felt like he was going to die and he knew that if he did damnation would be the only clear path for him. What other option could there be for a man who succumbed so easily and so eagerly to temptation? Helping Mr. Graves was sin enough but he had kissed him, he had clung to him in his bedroom and wanted more. 

Mr. Graves had kissed him for what felt like hours, pushing him down onto the bed and murmuring sweet, scandalous things into his ear. He had dug his fingers into Mr. Grave’s broad back and tried to kiss him back but all he could do was let him take his mouth the way that Credence hoped he would take him.

But then he’d gotten up, straightened his coat, and laughed.

“You make a man feel young again, my boy,” Mr. Graves said tenderly. “Give me a moment to take care of something and I’ll be right back.”

“All right,” Credence said shakily. His arms and legs felt like jelly on the bed and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk back home even if Mr. Graves shoved him halfway there but saying anything contrary to the man in front of him was unthinkable. 

It was a sin—oh such a sin—but he had been born unusually sinful. His mother had told him time and time again that his real mother had been a freak of nature and that her darkness would show through him. When he’d had his first heat, aching and empty and begging for something he didn’t understand then, his mother had been almost pleased. Finally his sin had shown its ugly, whorish face.

Every heat he’d had after that had been spent in a cellar or a closet, his arms bound tightly to his sides to prevent him from sinning further. His mother had given him strict warnings of what happened to wanton submissive men who went about in public when the Devil’s fire was burning in them. After a few years when he’d sat there in the dark, dripping and desperate, he’d thought that her warnings sounded more like promises.

And now he would have that promise fulfilled by the greatest man he’d ever met. Credence raised his hand to his coat, wondering if he should remove it. Should he take off all of his clothes so that Mr. Graves wouldn’t have to bother? Would that please him? He wanted so, so much to please him. 

Credence’s ears burned scarlet at the thought of Mr. Graves undressing him, of his big hands all along his body. His cock twitched violently in his ill-fitting slacks and he wanted to touch himself so badly that it was like the sun was living under his skin.

And he could, couldn’t he? Perhaps Mr. Graves wouldn’t object. He’d never touched himself during his heat, even when he felt like it was the only thing he could possibly do.

Credence sent uncertain fingers lightly down his chest, down further until they rested just above the damning bulge that proved how willing he was to fall into temptation. He was already damned, Credence told himself, damned by his love of Mr. Graves’s voice and his body and his warm, comforting hands.

Just as a searing rush of want made his decision for him, forcing him to press his hand down onto himself before he fell back onto the bed, moaning in needy delight, the door opened and Mr. Graves walked in once again.

Credence felt like the entire world stopped at the sight of him, the smell of him filling the room in a way that it hadn’t before, and every last thought in his head flooded out to make room for the want inside of him.

 

Credence Barebone, Graves thought in shock as he entered the room. He could almost hear Grindelwald laughing again at his surprise but then the smell of the man hit him and all he could think about was his long body, spread out on the bed like a gift as he touched himself.

“Please, oh, please,” Credence begged, clearly even further gone than him. He rubbed into his lap too roughly and moaned, his back arching up.

It was stupid and dangerous and he knew it but Graves was across the room in an instant. Credence was wearing way too many clothes for him right then and Graves felt the last of his control slipping away as he yanked off his shirt, pulled off his pants, tore off his loose boxers, to finally reveal his lean body, long-legged and flushed under his attention.

“Mr. Graves,” Credence moaned and pulled at his hand until he was pressing it against his cock, leaking already. Graves stroked him once up and felt savagely pleased at his choked cries but what he really wanted was lower. He slipped his fingers down to where Credence was slick and warm and waiting. He took his first finger so eagerly that he had to add a second and a third and a fourth, sliding them in with more difficulty than he would have thought. Hadn’t Grindelwald taken his cock along with his face? The boy should be used to something big shoved up inside of him.

Graves had a terrible thought, even as he ripped off his shirt and shoved his pants down to his hips. He yanked Credence up against him by his legs and centered his throbbing cock to his entrance. The uncertain way that Credence slid his feet against his thighs, his face as frightened as it was anticipatory, answered the question magic wouldn't let him ask. 

“Please, sir,” Credence pulled on his hips, close to insensible with need. “Please!”

Graves damned Grindelwald in his head and pushed into Credence as gently as he could manage it. The first thrust was still hard enough to rock him back onto the bed and the sound he made was as pained as it was ecstatic.

Graves wanted to go slow, wanted to treat Credence with a semblance of care but the rut in his blood was demanding more and harder and now and the answering heat in Credence’s hands and warm, searching mouth begged for even more.

There was no way that this first go-around would last long, not with the way that Credence was tight enough around him for it to be nearly painful, not with the way he was moaning continuously into his ear, letting out little choked promises of devotion. Graves reached down to wrap his hand around Credence’s pulsing cock and stroked only once before he came with a cry that was accompanied by an inhuman shriek of wind and darkness, seeming to come from everywhere before slamming outwards from the bed.

Graves barely noticed the wild explosion of power at that moment since Credence’s orgasm quickly pulled out the first of his own, fierce and eager. He didn’t knot but it was a close thing and even as the haze lifted slightly, he knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied the next time until he was locked in the submissive’s wet, willing body.

“Oh,” Credence murmured, his arms wrapping tightly around him. He looked worshipful as he stared up at Graves, which disturbed him even through his desire-fueled fog but a loud crash behind him drew his attention away.

Graves looked behind and his mouth fell open at the sight of his bedroom door, falling off of broken hinges. It found no support on the right wall it swung towards because that wall was half-gone, blasted into rubble in the hallway.

“Shit,” Graves said and then blinked at the sound of his voice. He turned his head back down to Credence, feeling his rut rising up in him again so quickly that he could barely process what he was seeing. “You’re the Obscurial.”

Credence didn’t answer, it was likely that he didn’t even hear him as he rose up, Graves still thick and deep inside him, and pressed his hot mouth to his throat. He kissed him shakily, more a slick swipe of his tongue than a proper kiss but it was enough to make Graves push him down onto the bed.

He went easily, like a good submissive should when being mounted. Graves pulled out, handily ignoring his fevered protests, and practically threw him over onto his stomach before pulling him up by his hips. Then he was back inside and it was everything he needed, everything that he could possibly want.

“Mine,” Graves said, the word rising up from deep in the most primal parts of him. He thought of Grindelwald then and although through his haze he couldn’t connect the dark wizard to his discovery of Credence’s true nature, he found himself draping over the man’s back. He pressed his mouth to his neck, right where the gland that produced his scent was working so hard. 

If he’d been in the right frame of mind, he wouldn’t have done it. Of course if he’d been in the right frame of mind, he wouldn’t be fucking his captor’s assistant in the first place. But as Graves worried at the soft gland high up on Credence’s thin neck with his teeth, the only thing he could understand was that the broken wall behind him meant Grindelwald would want this submissive under him. And that was unacceptable to every instinct in his body.

Graves bit down hard on that gland and Credence shrieked again, his body going tight as tripwire while he came once more. That wind rose up more ferociously than before and Graves had the briefest lucid second to hope he wasn’t going to end up like his bedroom wall before he came, knotting huge and solid inside his new mate.

 

Grindelwald whistled cheerfully as he opened the door to Graves’s apartment. Hopefully his little gift had put his houseguest in a better mood. The poor Squib would be in for a beating with his muggle mother but that was par for the course. He might even think that it was worth it. Certainly he’d been whispering “fuck me” with every stilted word he’d spoken in the last few weeks.

It didn’t take a great mind like his to know that something was wrong as soon as he entered the apartment. There was an enormous pile of rubble in the hallway, the result of the main bedroom’s wall having exploded out.

In the first instant Grindelwald thought that Graves had found a way to lift the block on his magic and had celebrated by destroying parts of his own house. Then he realized what had happened and it was so shocking that he had to stop and press his hand against the wall to steady himself.

Credence was the Obscurial. Pathetic Squibby Credence Barebone had been the damned Obscurial the whole time. And he’d just offered him up to his enemy like a party favor.

Grindelwald ran towards the bedroom and found Graves and Credence on the bed, which was surrounded by further rubble. Credence was apparently asleep, nestled closely under Graves’s heavy arm, his back pressed to his chest. Graves glanced up at Grindelwald’s entrance and Grindelwald was forced to admit that that smirk was not such a surprising sight on his captive’s face.

“Isn’t this interesting,” Grindelwald said.

“Shhhh,” Graves murmured sardonically, pulling Credence closer when he made a soft noise. “He needs his rest. Takes a lot out of a wizard to do all this.”

“Indeed.” Grindelwald tapped his wand against his hip. 

Graves carefully untangled himself from the other man, turning him slightly over in the process. Grindelwald caught sight of the mark high up on his neck, right under his ear and tapped his wand harder. 

Graves came over to him, unconcerned about his nudity and followed Grindelwald’s look. He chuckled, low and dark. 

“I suppose I have you to thank for this,” Graves said. He rested his arm up on the only remaining part of the wall, right next to Grindelwald and leaned in close. “No other wizard in history has mated with an Obscurial before.”

“Well,” Grindelwald said thoughtfully, his eyes still locked on the mark on Credence’s neck, “To be fair, all the others have been children.”

Graves nodded and then stretched his neck, letting it crack loudly. Even Grindelwald could tell the instant his rut started a new cycle.

“You should probably get out of here,” Graves said casually and glanced back at the bed where Credence was beginning to stir. “I don’t think he’ll have a very good reaction to seeing two of me.”

“Very likely.” Grindelwald grinned then, pleased that it dimmed a bit of Graves’s smug demeanor. “I have some things I need to do now anyway. You have your fun, Mr. Graves, and I’ll be here to clean up your mess in the morning.”

“We’ll see.” Graves dropped his arm and stepped back. 

Grindelwald watched right up until the moment when Credence began to fully wake up and the air in the room began to feel hot and electric. 

He would be a gentleman and retrieve whatever things Credence could possibly have in his hovel. He certainly wouldn’t be going home again to his dear mother’s care. He’d become Grindelwald’s most important asset. 

Graves was going to be a problem but the man had been a problem from the beginning. Grindelwald didn’t let it worry him much. Life was more interesting with a few little challenges along the way. 

As Grindelwald began walking down the street he let his borrowed face slide into a handsome, charming grin and found that he was no longer quite so bored pretending to be Percival Graves. Things had just become much more exciting.

**Author's Note:**

> This could not more plainly be me giving you all a picnic basket full of my id than if I spent an hour showing you my favorite scenes from the 1994 Western movie _Bad Girls_. I don't know if this will have a sequel because I have so many ideas for this fandom but this was sure some damn fun to write and I hope it was fun for you to read.


End file.
